C:STP Chapter 8 (Patreon)

Farlan sits up in subtle shock watching two of his properties make out, kissing deeply as if nobody else is in the room. Was it a natural instinct to be more intimate with the one he's connected to, or is Miles just trying to enjoy himself by being more engaged? Still, the Master jerks himself off seeing his little whóre make out with his second hand.
Because of shock and his sudden climax, Misha pulled out and stares at him, surprised. Something burned inside of him, and it is not his libido.
Miles lays back on the table closing his legs, trying to catch his breath after only exhaling moans. He had spotted Farlan staring at him, and he realized his mistake. Oh no... Quickly putting on an act of desire, he reached out for the Master. "Far... lan...?"
He doesn't want to look like he's attracted to Misha, he only wants to seem like he desires for séxual stimulation from anyone at all. He has heard what Farlan said about being attracted to Vanya, and so directly kissing Misha is dangerous to say the least. The Master is unpredictable and can be vicious.
Yet he stands up and hands the other man a roll on paper towels in a golden container asking, "Did you enjoy it, Misha?"
"... yes," Misha accepts it, unable to look away from the beautiful body of a person he has recently unloaded himself to. "But, forgive me for using what's yours, Master."
"Oh, nonsense..." Farlan holds onto Miles' left leg and gently pulls it to the right, switching his position and keeping one leg up the table while the other hangs. "That was incredible. Did you enjoy that, baby?"
Miles did nothing but whimper as Farlan slides into him, his original purpose of serving the Master. His moans can be heard all over the office and all while Misha fixes himself and walks to the front of the desk.
"Gh...--wait, Fa.... Ahh!" Miles cries out, neck stretched out so the Master can enjoy kissing him there. Miles opens his eyes and sees Misha staring at him with a clenched jaw, looking down on him. Then, Misha looks away to avoid the scene of him being helpless.
Taewon... Miles starts to cry heavily, clutching the edge of the desk as if reaching out to his former lover. Taewon, I'm sorry, please help me...
He didn't. After the Master was satisfied with Miles, the gangster only came back to help him close his shirt and fix his appearance by Farlan's command. The Master is now smoking a cigar at his desk, casually chatting with Misha in Russian, so a somewhat numb Miles can only hang his head low not understanding anything.
But at least Taewon is close now, is he? Miles subtly looks up at the man who is emotionlessly buttoning up his shirt. This is the closest thing he can get to being comforted by his Taewon. He feels terrible, though.
"... they're not allowed to exploit businesses near our territory," Farlan says, leaning back and relaxing with a smoke. "Be sure to watch over the Red Light District. We've struck a deal with the pimps to protect their establishments in exchange for giving us half their profits."
"Yes, Master," Misha says, staring down at Miles who clearly felt violated by the two of them. "Speaking of pimps... one group has lured in underaged tourists and offered one to me yesterday. That is against the rules, is it not?"
"Well fúck, if the police raids our streets and find those tourists, the pimps will be traced to the Schliemann. Buy the kids and take them to the Embassy." Farlan watches as Misha steps away from Miles. This beautiful Miles Taylor with empty eyes yet strong facial structure, his body is the most expensive in Schliemann's hands.
"Hmmm... maybe shoot those men as well for endangering the Schliemann. Can't have rule breakers in our territory," Farlan says in clear English while staring straight at Miles, who finally meets his eyes.
"Yes sir, would that be all?" Misha asks.
Farlan only shifts his eyes towards the gangster, though unmoving. "You're off bodyguard duty, Misha. I'll appoint Yasha to watch Miles instead. That's all."
Miles' eyes changed expression in the most subtle way, and he looks at Misha in clear loss. The gang leader should celebrate, after all he's wanted nothing more than to be rid of this babysitting job. But his eyes remain blank and uncertain, staring at Miles with an unknown expression.
"Thank you, Master. I will be going now." Misha turns and walks away quite rapidly, closing the door behind him and blocking away all thoughts and haunting feelings of his encounter with Miles. Watching him get forced to do that with the Master and him... his eyes, full of pain and begging for Misha to help him.
Why, of all time, is Misha only feeling guilt now? And guilt is treacherous, it left his heart beating rapidly and his mind filling with thoughts of Miles.
Who, back inside sits on one of the chairs in front of the Master's desk, suddenly being offered a glass of alcohol by Farlan. He looks up, giving the Master a look of resentment.
"I hate drinking."
"Mm. Angry little fox now, are we?" Farlan reaches for his hair and pets him on the neck, to which Miles flinches away from and stubbornly looks anywhere else but him. "My darling, you should consider that I am merely trying to give you a lesson. I see all of you as equals. Though I treat you specially, you all live under the same rules."
"I can't believe you would let other people use me," Miles mutters with a pissed tone. I can't believe you would make Taewon watch as you use me. "If I punched someone else, like a random gangster, would you offer my àss to him, too?"
"Unless you want to fight him to death," Farlan smiles and chuckles charmingly, "Remember that you were the one who chose to satisfy Misha. You two could've just brawled... with only one of you living."
Though Misha will not hesitate to hurt me, I couldn't hurt him. And since Miles wouldn't die, Misha surely will lose. The Master is now holding his jaw, forcing him to look up.
"You are the most beautiful, whether a male or female," Farlan leans down and pushes his hand up Miles' skirt.
"I hate you," Miles boldly states, anger still in his eyes. Farlan raised an eyebrow at him. "Both of you."
"Hm," Farlan smiles yet again, patting Miles' head as if he was a mere child complaining. "That's not gonna change anything, Lisichka."
five years ago,
CARVALLE DETENTION INSTITUTE
MANCHESTER, UK
"Master Levough," the Principal steps into the high-security laboratory basement, interrupting someone's one-sided conversation. "Someone is here to see you."
Turning around, Járed Ace Levough sees the one and only Farlan Ivanovich Schliemann.
"Old friend! Nice to see you visit!"
A man clad in a suit of beige white opens his arms to greet the Levough Mafia Boss, wearing a black formal attire with a dark green necktie. The greeting lasts about a second more than usual, before Farlan releases him.
"How is the Black Market?"
"Dark as usual. How is the transfer of power from the Strauss to the Schliemann?"
"Delicious," Farlan smirks.
They now face the infamous Keiji Levough, brother of Járed and currently in confinement after his bone marrow was being harvested for the 20th time. The scientists surrounding the boy has all left to give them privacy, and now they hear nothing else but the sound of the monitors.
"The Levough truly never knows peace," Farlan comments, staring at the angelic face of a comatosed psychopath on the bed. Their genes are truly phenomenal. Full of beauty. Full of crazy. "I see that all experiments have failed. Is there a compatible host, Járed?"
"Miles Taylor," Járed replies, glancing at Farlan whose eyes were focused on him the entire time. "His Mother was Keiji's surrogate. They share the closest DNA, he will be a compatible host for the regenerative abilities."
"Then why keep harvesting? You're just killing your little brother the more you take from the source," Farlan asks.
"It's his wishes to continue the experiments on different body types," Járed breathes in sharply, "You know Keiji's the most stubborn."
"And you couldn't say no?" Farlan stares deeply at the Levough, who didn't answer. His silence meant, "You love him too much."
"Of course I do, I'm his brother."
"More than a brother?"
"As a brother," Járed corrects, then whispers, "It's just that I cannot refuse him."
"You do know, he is destined to die the moment the kid started to become suicidal," Farlan scoffs, treating it as a lighthearted joke.
But Járed only glared at him. Still, he cannot deny. This entire operation was Keiji's method of suicide. He never wanted his regenerative abilities, but he wants to die leaving it behind for the Mafia to exploit. This hurts Járed, stabbing him in the heart and refusing to accept that no matter if the experiments are successful, Keiji will always end up dead.
Járed starts to hold back his tears, jaw clenching and throat tightening at Farlan's joke. The Schliemann Master then steps towards him and takes him in for a hug, comforting the Levough by gently patting his back. "There there now, Old friend. You said you cannot refuse Keiji's wishes. That's the effects of too much love. It's unhealthy."
Járed refuses to cry on his shoulder, but accepts his hug nonetheless. Instead he jokingly scoffs, "Coming from someone who's never loved."
Farlan gives him a side-eye, "Indeed. But I still care about friends. With this sacrifice, you will become the most powerful in the world. Do not worry, the Schliemann is with you. I will take care of anything, just name it."
"Aww," Járed smiles and pulls away despite his eyes still teary. "You're one cheesy motherfúcker."
"Impossible, I am Russian; always serious," Farlan responds with a smile, scanning Járed's heartbroken features.
"Okay Russian edge-lord, up for vodka?"
"I prefer Whiskey, I am not Russian when it comes to alcohol," Farlan deadpans.
This made Járed Levough laugh, effectively cheered up. "Dámn, I hate whiskey; makes my head spin. But hey, I'm up for a challenge. Let's go?"
The Master of the Levough turns and walks out, but Farlan spared a glance at the unconscious boy on the bed. The Master of the Schliemann deeply sighs, before turning on his heal as well.
the present day,
SCHLIEMANN MANSION,
NOVOSIBIRSK, RUSSIA
Misha stares at his brother carefully, watching him dress up in a white button up and dark blue wooly sweater to counter the cold. Not caring much about his own appearance, Vanya pushes a plastic headband up his hair to get rid of the bangs and is satisfied with his look. Meanwhile, his younger brother in multiple gold jewelry, black leather jacket with a dark red printed shirt sits in his room glaring intensively.
Finally, Misha has had it. "What, still giving me the silent treatment? Vanya, stop being a big baby."
Vanya turns to look at him and squints his eyes. You are the big baby.
"For what?! All for that stupid concubine? He's not even that pretty, and he's such a creep bribing you with stuffed toys to try getting you to sleep with him!"
Big baby, Vanya huffs, grabbing his velociraptor from his bed and stomping out of the room.
"Is this because of what I said?! I wasn't serious, I was just trying to scare him! Ivan!"
Vanya ignores him, not even responding with a breath as he tied up his shoes.
"Vanya." Misha held back his arm before he can open the door. His heart beats fast, unable to hide something from his brother. "Vanya, do you actually like him?"
The silver haired man turns around, looks at his stuffed toy and mutters, "Like..."
A pissed Misha signs with trembling fingers, "Do you like the Master's whóre?"
Vanya pulls his arm away from him and signs back, "Miles Taylor is nice and pretty."
With that he turns away, but halts when Misha yells out, "I had séx with him."
Vanya couldn't hear anything well, but Misha's voice was loud enough for him to understand certain words, like him. He turns around, only for a hesitant Misha to sign the same phrase quite aggressively.
'The Master forced me to. An eye for an eye,' Misha points at his bruise, now covered with a large bandaid.
Vanya looks at his hands, then up at his eyes. He doesn't know what to feel. He just keeps searching for a jest in his brother's eyes. Misha however, can spot a pained swallow from Vanya. Miles had always belonged to the Master, but Misha gets to have him, too? Why does Vanya's heart hurt...
meanwhile,
Miles had dreamt of a scene where he goes roaming the city with Taewon and Jihun once again. Misha owed that to him, right? But can he even do that right now; can he even face the man? Why is he waking up with tears when the dream was so happy, being with his boys?
"Good morning, Miles Taylor," Yasha formally greets at the foot of the bed, just as Miles sits up with only the duvet covering his body.
"Oh..." They're not my bodyguards anymore. "Good morning, Yasha..."
The woman was wearing a formal black blazer with nothing underneath, showing a deep cleavage that was decorated with colorful beads from long necklaces. Her black slacks matched the formal look, her cuffed dreadlocks matching her accessories. She has on silver heels that matched the silver finger guards that can slice necks at a touch.
Miles sighs sadly as he covers himself with a robe, uncaring about the other gangsters present. "For someone that has so many people doing stuff for him, Farlan still can't wake up with me, can't he?"
"Forgive the Master, he is early bird. So much work to do," Yasha responds.
But has enough time to fúck me for hours... Miles rolls his eyes, now cleaning himself at the bathroom.
Later on, Miles had breakfast with Yasha who seemed to be a walking encyclopedia with how much she knows about Farlan. While in breakfast, Miles can't help but ask questions.
"He like watermelon so much he bought entire square melon farm in Japan," she answered with a thick Russian accent while Miles chews on his bacon, weirded out.
"Does he have any pet peeves?"
"Speak while not looking in his eyes, green clothes and jewelry, small dogs, and if you do things without his permission."
Miles swallows his food nervously. He doesn't seem so mad when I kissed... a certain someone...
Yasha notices his nervousness and spares an emotionless smile. With her usual thick accent she says, "The Master is kind to who give him loyalty, and love. The more love you give, the less punishment for mistake."
Hmm? Miles honestly admits, "He's really nice, but... really scary. The nicer he is, the more I'm scared."
"Oh?" The woman laughs out loud, stabbing a fruit with a fork and bringing it to her mouth for a bite. "You should only be scared of Master when one eyebrow go up. Like this," Yasha points to her brow and raises it the slightest. "Master may be shock, or may dislike. Avoid making him raise eyebrow, okay?"
Uhmm... That didn't make Miles feel any better because, he has raised that at me multiple times!
"What happens if he raises his eyebrow... then does nothing? He does that sometimes, but there are no actions from him..." Miles stops himself from raising his voice and making it obvious that he messed up.
"I don't know," Yasha shrugs. "Master is smart. He will punish you even without knowing. Eyebrow up, you get punished. If you don't know, then it is sneaky punishment. He kindly tell me my hair look better bleached and out natural, but that was very bad idea. That was  punishment for me when I made his eyebrow go up. You can never know."
Truly, no matter how kind and constantly smiling Farlan is, he is still a Master of one of the Unholy Trinities. Which means he is as ruthless as Járed Levough; these men cannot be underestimated or taken advantaged of.
"I am done eating," Miles announces, voice echoing all over the dining room.
later on,
Miles was walking with Yasha in the corridors when suddenly, he hears music coming from the gang's music room. A soft melody, yet full of hesitance and negative keys. "Oh... uhm, is Vanya in there?"
"Always," she smiled. "Did you miss him?"
"Uhm... can I give him something? I'll go back to my room and get something from him."
"Becareful, Miles Taylor," she warned, "Vanya may be silent, but he still one of Misha's. Very, very dangerous to attach to."
"Thank you," he replies, now walking faster to the Master bedroom. "But, I owe him something."
After retrieving a cartoonishly fat Pterosaur, Yasha accompanies the Mistress to the music room where, upon the opening of the grand doors, sat Vanya pressing keys one by one. The room full of gangsters were silenced at the presence of the infamous concubine who weren't afraid of their leader.
"Shít, the Master's bítch is here."
"With a toy for Vanya again?"
"I want one, too."
"What are you, a child?"
"No, I want a Miles too."
"I thought you liked it in the butt? No? So you weren't gay all along, comrade?"
"Yes, what you did last night was not pleasurable at all."
"Can I be alone with Vanya?" Miles looks back at Yasha and politely asks, "Please?"
Yasha raises a suspicious eyebrow. But, privacy is indeed a good thing. "Hmm, are you sure you want that?"
"Yes."
Yasha still looks at his cautiously, although more worried on what Vanya might to do the Mistress than the other way around. Nevertheless, she is here to serve him. She takes a radio from her back pocket and hands it to him quite reluctantly. "You call if need anything, good?"
"Yes, thank you," Miles' head bows a little in gratitude, before Yasha snaps her fingers at the gangster around.
"Out, all of you! Mistress wishes to have privacy with Vanya."
"What?" They all grumbled as they exit the music room, bitter that they're getting kicked out.
"See this is because you make fun of Vanya's dinosaur."
"Damn. I want to see Miles more."
"The Master will kill you."
"No, let him thirst. Seeing Master kill someone turns me on. Not in a homo way, just... I would like Master to put his gun in my àss."
"Comrade..."
The door closed behind Yasha, who gives Miles an unspecified glance before exiting. Vanya, who stays behind on the piano, noticed the absences of his gang and stops playing. He watches closely as Miles stands beside his seat.
"It was nice," he compliments the music, clutching a Dinosaur that Vanya is emotionlessly eyeing. Miles then signs, "I want to talk to you. You can have this?"
Vanya glances at the dinosaur, then back at Miles, before he broke the man's heart by ignoring and going back to the piano.
"Vanya?" Miles sighs in disappointment. Why is he ignoring me? Is it because of what happened yesterday? Did Misha tell him? "Hey... uhm, I want to thank you for stopping your brother. Vanya?"
The man kept ignoring him. Or maybe, he can't hear anything, or refused to. Miles reaches out a hand, slowly and carefully, wishing to at least give the toy to him. It's okay if he won't talk to with me, I just want to-
"Ah!" Miles was stopped from touching Vanya by a mechanical hand that grips his wrist tightly, belonging to none other than Misha. His heart spikes up, wondering how the hell he got in here so silently. "Wha- wait, ow let me go-!"
But no, he was in here all along, seated by the door where he was never noticed, and never went outside with the others.
"He hates you," the man says, watching Miles squirm in his grasp. Vanya doesn't look at them, but his mind is focusing at his peripherals where Miles is getting harassed by his brother.
"No, wait! I came to talk, I don't want to do anything else!"
"That's the thing," Misha throws Miles on the floor coldly, taking advantage of the fact that Miles couldn't bring himself to put the both of them in danger. Two times now, has he protected me for no fúcking reason.
"Hh..." Miles breathes heavily, holding his wrist and looking up at the gang leader. "What do you want from me?! Didn't you already get your revenge?!"
"Tsk," Misha looks down on him, with Vanya not even looking at him. "I have no need for you. But Vanya felt hurt that you got to fúck me. But isn't that the nature of slúts like you? Well, he hates you now."
Vanya? Jihun? Miles looks at the man, concerned. The dinosaur was discarded on the floor and Vanya doesn't even care about it.
"That is, unless we play a game..." Misha kneels and sits on his ankle in order to look at Miles with a light smirk.
"Game? Game?! You haven't had enough ráping me yesterday?!" Miles yells at him, tears pooling in his eyes. He is still pissed at the way he was treated yesterday, even if he got to touch Taewon all over again, he still feels like he touched a stranger.
"Oh, rápe? Weren't you the one who chose to súck my díck instead of fighting? The Master gave you a choice, sweetheart," Misha spitefully sneers. "Do you want to play a game, or not?"
Breathing heavily, Miles looks up at Vanya who is sitting still waiting for his answer. He looks at Misha, and sees the eyes of a devil who will torment him without a second thought. But if it's for Jihun's sake... my Jihun... I'll do anything.
"Fine. Let's play," Miles whispers, looking at Misha cautiously.
"That's the spirit." The man then stands up to stretch, nonchalantly stretching his arms. He was wearing a black shirt and ripped pants, with a red bandana on his head. His arms are full of tattoos with no skin to peak through, opposite his brother who doesn't have any body modifications.
"For three years, Vanya has never shown interest in any woman or séx doll no matter how many the gang introduces him to. He refuses the prostitutes in the brothels, male or female alike. We're starting to doubt that he may be mentally disabled as to not even masturbate once," Misha calmly explains while walking to his brother and putting both of his hands on Vanya's shoulder.
This revelation made Miles look up at Vanya with a delighted heart, because his Jihun, though a hollow shell of who he once was, didn't touch anyone in three years. Misha continued, "But the video I caught... showed him having interest in you. Initiating a kiss... stripping you... hm. Miles Taylor, why don't you  get my brother off?"
"... you want me to sleep with him?" Miles says in a low voice, "I thought you don't want a whóre anywhere near your brother."
"I still don't, especially the Master's whóre," Misha glares at him. "But this is a game he wants to play. Maybe he'll be cured by sleeping with you. If you fail, I will show the tapes to the Master."
Miles gasps, remembering Yasha's words about Farlan being unhappy if someone does anything without his permission. Yesterday, Misha had permission to fúck Miles; but Vanya didn't, so if he knows... "You are seriously gonna sell your brother out?"
"We had this discussion. And it's for a game. I play fair," Misha sneers, propping his head on Vanya's shoulder so Miles gets to look at the both of them. "So... what's it gonna be? Since you admit you're a whóre, why not act like one?"
Jihun... your brother is such a fúcking prick. But... "Deal. Just be sure Vanya is not against this."
Misha scoffs, standing up in victory. "The Master will go to Vietnam two days from now. I'll pick you up in the morning." He squints his eyes, "We'll go shopping."